


Six Feet Under the Garden

by SlaveToGravity



Series: Buried at Last [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Established Relationship, F/M, I Tried, Miscarriage, Not Beta Read, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Romance, Suicidal Thoughts, Titans, Tragedy, Violence, kind of ooc but not too much, rivamika
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-02-15 20:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18676609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlaveToGravity/pseuds/SlaveToGravity
Summary: “Am I ill? Is it a sickness of the mind?”He fears her every words, the looks she throws without a care and the life she endangers every single day. Her usually lively eyes, filled with rage or concern, seem empty of life under the dying sun. They fill with salty water and despair, and the bags under her eyes suddenly seem heavier than the gears around her hips. She looks down the giant wall, towards monsters and dry lands.“To desire death more than life itself?”Mikasa never falls, but because everything around her does, she doesn’t have anything to hold on to.





	1. Roof

          The night is a beautiful one, truly. With stars scattered all around the dark sky, moon pale and bright, and no cloud in sight, Levi could have seen it as another perfect night was it not for the loud cheers of drunk soldiers right in front of him.

          The latest expedition was a success, at least as one could be. New abandoned but usable small towns were discovered, few titans were spotted, few casualties, new lands to travel safely through such as dense forests and narrow mountains, and all of that in a small amount of time; for once, the soldiers all had a good reason to drink and dance, despite Levi’s strong desire to just shut them all up. Even Erwin was there, quietly enjoying the night, Hanji right by his side, her constant chatter almost louder than the paid violinist on stage but not enough to cover the almost deafening singing of the cadets. Levi wasn’t drunk, but everyone else seemed to be. Inhibited or not, Hanji was the same, but Erwin was visibly more sober than her, only an almost empty glass of wine left in his remaining hand.

          Levi sighs, looking away from the both of them. He scans the room, scowls at the drunken brouhaha echoing in his head, narrows his eyes on a lone door not guarded by any inhibited teenager. He stands up and escapes as discreetly as possible.

          Once behind the door, back firmly pressed against the hard wood, he sighs again. It’s quieter here. Sure, the noises could still be heard, but they at least were muffled by the heavy door, just enough to calm his headache a little. He huffs again before walking silently through the corridor. Every candle is out, not a flame in sight, and only the moon can guide his steps. He carefully escapes the building, going straight to where his gears are place, waiting patiently for any kind of action. He eyes it hesitantly for a minute but shakes his thoughts away and rounds the castle, finding the ladder that usually leads him to the roof. Strangely, it’s already secured against the wall, almost waiting for him to climb. Though irritated, he puts it no mind, someone must have left it here after cleanup.

          Climbing the old ladder, wood creaking under his every step, feels familiar and welcoming. Answering to the familiar sound, his mind relaxes, his thoughts wander. Once high enough, he steps on the roof, careful of the tiles and bricks. He lets the ladder behind and tip-toes slowly, mindful of his steps and the sounds he makes. And finally, under the watchful eyes of the moon, he goes to his usual place, facing the forest, back to nothingness, moon above his head. But once there, he stops in his track. Wariness comes back, he stays put. Someone’s there, sitting lazily, head bent down towards the ground. He doesn’t have to check twice, her raven hair gives her away. Mikasa sits there, silently hanging right above ground. He doesn’t wonder for long, they’re the same. Both crave silence.

          He can still hear the festivities under his feet, the worn out chords of the violin, the drunken songs of the cadets and superiors, all the same, for when drunk off their minds, no greater threat could distract them away from their half empty bottles of warm beer and the jovial singing of euphoric newbies.

          She escaped the party some time ago, long before he could even fathom the idea of leaving without notice. Being corporal had its fair share of hardships, and being required to attend every festivity organized after each expedition, if successful enough, had to be one of the worst. The false sense of security, the distant echo of hypocrisy on every song that is played, the smiles, the looks, the flirting and the dirty dinning hall, he hated it all. And Levi might not get lucky enough to escape the party at its very beginning, but he could at least enjoy a quiet leave when the drinkers got to loud and inhibited to see him tip-toe to the far doors, face against the walls and eyes on the handles. Mikasa, on her side, could flee away like a mouse in a mansion, neither heard nor witnessed, and maybe not even missed by her comrades.

          She’s wet, now that he gets closer, he can see that. The air is fresh and her shoulders are barely covered, the back of her neck widely exposed to the moonlight. He can observe every pearl of water roll down the white of her skin, every droplet wet a little more of the fabric on her back. But the nearer he gets, the better he sees, and her skin might be as white as the moon, but it might be as smooth, too. Small scars scatter her neck, her shoulders, the edge of her jaw. Thin lines, more or less deep, white and pink, old and new, traces by blades and teeth, even nails, it seems. On the perfect skin that she wears, scars upholster it like a ruined canvas, and the perfect painting that is Mikasa loses some of its value with every line traced over her body. As she bends down a little more, her licorice eyes threading the ground under her dangling feet, the scars on her naked shoulders alter her looks a bit more, carve her like old and faded tattoos would. He suddenly feels the need to trace every line, to follow the threads with his calloused fingertips, to see if even when scarred her skin remains soft. Her right hand beats him to it and her fingers cover the bare skin of her left shoulder. She looks up then, having watched the ground enough, the sky seemingly more interesting, and it’s not licorice but cleanly polished onyx that shines through her irises, with hints of gray and purple, but mainly dark, as dark as the darkest color that can be. She looks at the sky with those mesmerizing eyes, not looking down. Levi hopes she doesn’t look down anymore.

          She sews the stars the stars together, follows the invisible lines of each and every celestial object visible, and Levi thinks that no, she’s not gonna fall, because Mikasa has never fallen before, he’s only ever seen her fly.

 

          She’s not gonna fall. Those were rumors. Mikasa never falls.

 

“It’s not that warm and you’re soaking wet,” he starts then, and when he feels like his voice is too loud for the situation they’re in, he lowly murmurs “you should go back inside.”

“I’m not cold,” she takes time, but she answers. Her voice doesn’t shake, neither does her body, but he can feel her slightly tremble. Her right hand scratches at the scars she can touch, at the tip of her shoulder -the acromion, he believes- while her left hand remains still right on her stomach. “And I just showered,” she keeps her voice low. He goes to sit by her side and puts a soft and reassuring hand on her knee, his fingers fiddling with the soft texture of her skin. She doesn’t move, still deeply lost in the stars high above. She blinks and soon her eyes shine just as much as the sky she’s observing. “I’m so tired,” she whispers. Her head falls, her long bangs cover her eyes and cheekbones. “So, so tired.”

“Of what?” He tries to sound calm and sincere, but his voice has never been one for reassurances, so he lets his body talk for him. His fingers trace the edges of her knee cap, his thumb lightly presses against the soft tissue of her skin.

“Is everything an answer?” She sounds almost defeated at her own words. She searches and he waits, but she soon gives up, lets her eyes fall down the sky to finally settle on a tree, far away. “I don’t know.”

“Fighting?” He asks, because he’s tired of that, too. His body is exhausted, but he feels her troubles are deeper than just her muscle. They don’t stay right under her skin. They stay deeper than that, deeper than he can reach.

“It’s in the mind,” she says back. A slight frown forms on her features, a slight tremor of the mouth distort the softness of her lips. “It’s right in my head,” her left hand, until now unmoving, rises slowly to her forehead. Her thin fingers touch the center of her temple, lightly pressing. God’s joke, they name it. And, oh, what a cruel one. She drops her hand, lets it fall on her lap, mere inches from his own hand. “I’m exhausted.”

“You should rest.” He searches for his words, but what could he say? He feels pathetic, no other words of comfort come in mind. He doesn’t know what to say to her, and he hates it. Despises his lack of oratory talent, his small vocabulary. Suddenly, he despises his own tongue and voice, too, for even the simplest words of affection seem to feel too heavy.

“I can’t,” her words don’t beg but her voice does, and she lets her head roll and fall to his shoulder. He welcomes it with a light kiss on the crown of her head. “Not anymore, everything’s falling apart.” She breathes in deeply, he sighs. He knows where this is going, and he hates every part of it. Both of her hands fall back on her stomach. “I lost it,” she whispers and this time, her voice shakes. The beat that his heart just skipped hurt as much as a stab in the lungs, if not more. “I fell and then I bled. I lost it.”

“You never fall,” he tries again, but his own voice is frailer than ever. His own stomach twist, it feels like a kick he’ll never feel on her. It mocks and it hurts.

“I do, all the time. I feel myself falling down, lower and lower, and the bottom becomes clearer every single time I breath,” consciously or not, she empathizes her words by breathing so, so slowly that her breath isn’t heard anymore, and the almost non-existent wind becomes louder than her. She closes her eyes, lets his shoulder sink into her cheek. “I’ll hit the ground one day.”

“You won’t. I’ll catch you.” He tells the truth but lies, he doesn’t even hear his own words. He doesn’t believe in anything he says.

“I’m tired,” she sighs.

“Me too,” he murmurs.

 


	2. Wall

          In hours, now, a new expedition would be conducted. New squads, new fights, a new route but always the same fears, the same doubts, the same perplexity. Just a matter of hours, fragile minutes, tangible seconds, all filled by terrifying wonder, will I make it out of this one alive? No one can answer, and now that everyone’s seen the horror of the outside world through thick walls of bricks and mortified eyes, no one really believes in the possibility of leaving through the war. It’s complicated, some would say, but no one really knows.

          Levi’s tea is cold. Colder than ever, freezing water with hints of mint. He stirs a small silver spoon through the water, watching the cut leaves drown at the bottom of the cup, but he doesn’t drink the liquid he’s observing. The soft pastel green color and the sweet and discreet smell should calm him, keep his thoughts at bay, but he can’t help but wonder, too, just like everyone else. What will happen of them? Will he fail in saving his squad? He knows it, every time they go behind the walls, the lives of hundreds of soldiers are put on his shoulders, and it’s a pressure he can’t afford to loosen. If his mind were to wonder to the ifs, he would never make it out alive to see another day. So, tea cold, spoon left aside, he gulps the tea quickly, non-hesitant despite the distasteful taste of the sugary water, and stands up. He throws the usual brown jacket, ignoring the worn out elbows and dirty edges, and walks quickly out of his given room.

          The corridors are cold, dark, somber than the night outside. His steps, though light, echo against the heavy gray bricks of the surroundings. Passing through empty corridors, candles blown out, and closed doors, soldiers waiting behind, he doesn’t take his time to wonder if they really sleep or not, if their sleep is comforting or more tiring than anything else. There’s always a quiet tension hanging above their heads before every expedition, and this time isn’t an exception. He doesn’t hear snores, so he doesn’t have to wonder anyway. Almost no one can sleep at this hour of the night, past midnight and too close to morning. So he, too, unable to sleep, just as usual, passes by discreetly, mind drown to the walls just outside, near the castle they stay in.

          He finally reaches the entrance, opens the heavy doors, closes them behind him. The heavy tension in the castle is left behind, the fears and the wonders, too. He steps away, quietly, wet grass tickling the plantation of his feet. In hurried steps, he goes to the garage behind the building and there, alone, darkness surrounding the place, he quickly puts on his gear and walks away, quiet as always. The steel hitting his thighs makes an eerie noise loud enough to break through the heavy silent of the night. The sound seems multiplied despite the lack of surface it can echo against. It seems louder than the shuffling of the leaves, louder than the wet grass being crushed under his feet, louder than the whistling of the early wind. He tries not to pay it any mind, but he soon finds it impossible when it’s the only sound that can divert his thoughts away from the nearing expedition. So he listens to it with uncharacteristic attention, and forgets about everything else. And if, when he nears the walls, he finds the zip of the metal chords comforting due to its familiarity, he forces himself to forget it quickly. His life revolves around the war, and nothing else.

          The wind hitting his skin helps him focus on the desired trajectory. He slides against the wall with high speed and precised movements. He lets himself fly a little too high, higher than the walls themselves, and the fall gives him the rush of adrenaline he needed in order to wake up his mind completely. He falls gracefully, ignoring the pain that jolts through his toes when the skin there is scraped by the rock. And when he gains his breathing back, when he finally looks up from his toes, when the chords are fully back in place and the metallic blades don’t make any sound anymore, he’s not surprised to see the beginning of a sunrise, even if small. The different shades are mesmerizing, a gradient of colors, going from the black of the night to a soft hue of red, but his eyes are drawn to something else entirely.

          As always, her form is beautifully shaped by the light surrounding her. The edges of her silhouette are blurry, him being blinded by the early light and her being drown under the brightness of a waking sun. He can observe her shorter hair slightly floating under the wind, her hands gripping the edge of the wall she sits on tightly, and he can only guess her eyes looking down, a habit she’s had for quite a while. He tries to ignore the itching feeling that he can’t remember when it’s started but that he’s already used to it, her looking down and almost never up. Mikasa never falls, but he knows where her eyes are drawn.

 

“You shouldn’t be here. I could sanction you for going out past curfew,” he says loudly enough for her to hear. She flinches slightly at his sudden words but doesn’t turn around. She knows his voice by heart and would be damned if she were to forget it.

 

“Quite hypocritical of you to say that,” she answers back. She doesn’t bite back like she used to, and he can only wonders if it’s because of the love she feels towards him or the numbness she feels inside her.

 

“I’m your superior, I have more excuses than you,” he undoes his buckles and lets his gear fall, watching her as she jolts at the heavy sound the metal makes as it hits the ground. He walks towards her, steps silent, and he stops right behind her back. He stares at the sun. It seems higher than before. “It would be easier for me to lie, too.”

 

“It would,” she murmurs. She diverts her eyes towards his feet then knee, his waist, his shoulders, but her eyes never settle on his own. They fall back on the ground under her. “It would.”

 

          He’s never seen her so hesitant and frail. Be it because of the thin nightgown she’s wearing, the disheveled aspect of her short black hair, of the heavy bags under her eyes, maybe even the light shining against the pearly white of her skin, he doesn’t know what to blame for this fragile aspect he hates. It doesn’t suit her, the strongest woman he’s ever known. Always so determined, always so stubborn, always so pride, here, she seems like a lost child. A child he would rather push down to hit the ground than keep alive in this cruel world it lives in. He shakes his head and sits down, letting his right hand fall on her left thigh. They don’t move for a while, him observing the rising sun, her staring at the low ground.

 

“Do you feel ready for today?” He asks slowly, forcing his mouth to form the syllables he’s spoken so many times before. He doesn’t know why but they feel heavy on his lips, forced, it’s a disgusting habit he’s taken. No one is ready, he knows, but he can’t help but ask.

 

“Always,” she says. That’s all. There’s a thousand words that she hides behind the soft wall that are her lips, but she never speaks them. She’s still stubborn, he notes, but not for the good reasons.

 

“I’m starting to believe that you’re too strong for your own good,” he whispers. Maybe to himself, maybe to her, she doesn’t stir at his words. Maybe she didn’t hear him, the wind becoming stronger, the cold biting at her ear. “You should rely on others,” it’s hypocrite of him to say that but he can’t help, not when her life is in danger. Years ago, he wouldn’t have cared about what she does and who she relies on once out in the battlefield, but now that their relationship has changed, he does.

 

“Never,” she should have said that strongly, determination and stubbornness clear in her usually steady voice, but the reluctance in the single word she utters creates a dark and sharp fear deep in his guts. He eyes her, surprised, concerned.

 

“Are you scared?” She takes her time, he waits almost impatiently, feeling on edge, too much, he could almost feel his body slipping down the wall.

 

“I wouldn’t say that. I haven’t been scared in a long time,” the sun seems higher than before, the lights more colorful, more vivid, the darkness of the night has almost disappeared, far behind their back. She looses her focus on the bloody orange painted on the sky, ignoring Levi’s intense eyes on her. “I sometimes miss fear. I wouldn’t be so reckless then.”

 

          Her eyes are as bright as ever, but the dullness behind them terrifies Levi. The red hue they hold, the cold yellow they reflect, they’re even prettier than usual, but again, the emptiness that they paint, the pain that they hold, deep behind retracted pupils, they all worry Levi. He should be used to it by now, every soldier has its breaking point, but he finds himself missing the old rage they had, old proof of her desire to live. And now, there is nothing but the pulse going though her thigh, right under her fingers, that prove to him that she’s still here.

 

“It’s pretty,” she whispers. He looks at her, a small and discreet smile paints her lips. But the sun is now high and her eyes still too low, she looks at the ground, so many meters below.

 

“You should look at the sunrise when saying that,” he starts, retaining himself from muttering any usual insult he would have thrown there. Her smile disappears and still, she doesn’t make any move to look up.

 

“I’ve seen countless of rising suns, every single morning. Every sleepless night, I’ve waited for the sun to wake up the world,” she spits now, newfound hatred towards a sun that’s done nothing. She doesn’t move, but her frown speaks volume. Levi’s taken short by her change of tone. He tries to speak but she cuts him, not letting herself breath between any of her own words. “I don’t want to see the sun rise anymore if it’s just to see it set, ignorant, on a world of misery.”

 

“Mikasa-”

 

          Just as he’s about to tell her the words he’s worked so hard on, to rely on him, to trust his decision, to lean on his shoulder whenever she needs to, she turns her livid eyes on his, and he loses every thought he had. She’s crying silently, clear tears rolling down her flushed cheeks. They roll and roll, fall, down to the ground below them, where neither of them can reach. They fall endlessly, surely where death awaits them.

 

“I wonder…” She shakes her head, “no, I’ve wondered for so long now… Levi, am I ill?”

 

          He’s taken aback by her question. She puts a shaking hand on her empty stomach, she lets her eyes fall on the barely covered skin, soothing scars that have faded and scars that have yet to form. His mouth opens and closes, she waits. He ends up waiting, too. He’s completely blinded by the sun, he’s unable to discern her form correctly.

 

“Is it a sickness of the mind?” She looks down and up and down again, at her stomach, at the sun, at him, at her feet, at death herself, at the tears that have already fallen. Her eyes are fully open and her mouth is left strongly closed, lips pressed in a thin line, teeth biting the inside of her skin, breaking the flesh. She tastes blood and, suddenly, like a billion thoughts just crossed her troubled mind, she jerks her head up, eyes wide open, tears falling, droplets edging at the tip of her long eyelashes. She seems desperate, so out of character, her frailness blows the air out of his lungs. “Am I wrong for desiring death more than life itself? Should I be scared of my will to die? Should I let myself fall, now...”

 

          She chokes and Levi does, too, eyes wide and fear screaming. She throws her hand on her mouth and lets her head hang, eyes narrowed but opened enough just to let her tears cascade down her figure. She chokes on her own sobs, and Levi hesitates, his hand hovering above her shoulder, leaving her thigh as if the skin just burnt him. He thinks and thinks, too much for his own good. The sun is full, the night has disappeared, and their fears burn just like the giant orb in the sky. He lets his hand fall on the small of her back, careful of her unusual petite figure. He looks at the sky, words lost at the back of his mind. It started as a simple rumor, but now he can see it, high in the sky, deep in her shaking body.

 

          Mikasa never falls, but when she doesn’t have anything to hold on to and when she wishes to fall more than she wishes to fly, can she do anything but fall?

          Levi wonders, then, will he have to fall with her to at least lessen the shock?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello people!
> 
> I hope this second chapter was to your taste (do I English well??). I hope I wrote it well, too. If there are mistakes or if you have criticism, I always love to hear it! It helps me grow as a, a, kind of writer? Can I say I'm a writer? I feel too arrogant when saying that. It's strange.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always welcome and appreciated!  
> Sur ce, buh-bye!


	3. Church

          The sound of boots hitting jagged ground grows louder and louder as the minutes go by. Hundred of soldiers gallop to their horse, line up, prepare. A countless number of green capes flying through the air is witnessed by soldiers and citizens alike, and though it yells hope, it also whispers dreadful outings and fear of survival. The atmosphere is tense, the morning is high, the weather is cold. Fear settles in everyone’s mind and the blades hitting against their hips seem heavier than before. The beaming voices of kids and preachers resonate, but not louder than the giant bell above the walls. It signals departure, it signals the beginning of hope and, Levi knows, it will also signal the end, once they return, with corpses on their chariots and failed duty on their minds.

          Mikasa doesn’t seem to be scared in any single way, and maybe that should be something he has to worry about. Eren talks louder than supposed to, usual prep speech he reserves before every expedition bouncing off his lips with ease, but she doesn’t stir, doesn’t look away from the rising gate, where the proud head of Maria rests, her steeled profile looking towards the horizon. Armin, staying by the determined young man’s side, shakes like a dying leaf in winter, but his eyes are strong, blue like clear water, and Levi wonders if they’ll stay the same for as long as he lives. He’s never seen them change, but just like Mikasa’s own dark ones, they might break one day. Eren’s eyes, too, will end up fading. He doesn’t want to see that, surprisingly.

 

“Ackerman, come here for a second,” he intended it to be loud, but his own voice feels quite low compared to the loudness of the streets as they start galloping away. She looks at him then, her figure shaken by her horse’s race but her eyes holding his with fierce attention.

 

“What is it, Captain?” He can hear her clearly, her voice having a somber tone but still loud enough to be heard through the commotion. They’re riding right by each other’s side, their knees hitting one another when the path they go through becomes too narrow.

 

“Just, don’t do anything stupid, alright? If push comes to shove, don’t let your feelings get the best of you.” She scowls at him, frown deepening, but he lets go of the leather in his hands long enough to show her his palms. She understands, then, and listens to him quietly. “I know what you’re capable of, good or not, and the number of times you did something reckless is too high for me to let you roam around freely without any supervision. So this time, for this expedition only, you’ll be with me. Understood?”

 

“Did you ask Erwin for this?” She seems betrayed for a moment, her eyes piercing through his own. He scowls then, too.

 

“It’s Commander Erwin for you, Ackerman, and no, I didn’t ask. I have other things to care about than to babysit you willingly,” he retorts, maybe a bit stronger and harsher than supposed to, but she handles it well, eyebrows still set in a deep frown, eyes still looking intensely into his. Levi softens his features, letting his eyes look at the horizon they’re reaching for. “I wanted you by my side. I know what goes in your head right now, and I deemed it safer if you were to stay with me.”

 

“You see me as a burden, then,” she huffs, and he could almost not hear it through the horses’ strong run and the heavy breathing of determined yet apprehensive soldiers. He studies her soft features. They fell back to an expressionless state, eyes looking straight ahead, mouth in a straight thin line, sweet lips pursed. He can see the way she bites her bottom lip every now and then, tearing away dry skin, letting a small pearl of red blood run down the torn skin. He sighs.

 

“I don’t. I just want you safe.” The groups start to separate, far enough from the walls. The safest formation is taken, all according to plan. Eren goes one way, Armin goes another, and him and Mikasa, along with other anonymous soldiers, continue on galloping straight ahead, a bit faster. The commotion slows down, the chatter completely evaporates. He waits until calmness has came back to talk again, this time softer, almost unsure. “I trust you, in every single way you could think of. But I also know you better than you think. So stay around, wait for orders, and above all else, stay alive. Understood?”

 

          She doesn’t stir at the desperate harshness of his voice, almost doesn’t react. He was about to repeat himself when she nods, movement almost imperceptible as her whole body shakes with her horse. “Understood, sir.”

 

“Good.” And just like that, silence follows, and the horses galloping are the only source of conversation they can hear.

 

            It’s half of a day by horse, far from the walls, but not too much. For this one expedition only, Erwin had decided to make it quick, simple, and as much as possible, with the less casualties they could have. Levi knew the goal of it, to prepare the new scouts, to discover some new lands they missed on previous expeditions, to at least ensure a somewhat correct security around the walls. It shouldn’t be a problem, for no one, had assured Erwin when Levi seemed skeptical about the whole ordeal at first. And despite his doubts, Levi quickly agreed. It was their jobs, they swore their hearts for this, for mankind only. No personal matter should make them forget what their role truly is: assuring security and survival among those who need it, and completely erasing the greater threat that is the titans.

          They make it pretty peacefully, with almost no titans in sight. The method of movements they chose works wonders, and pretty soon, right when the sun sets, they arrive to their destination. A small land, deeply hidden in high woods, with abandoned houses. The air is heavy due to the humidity of the night, the atmosphere is uneasy, but they all find the place needed to settle down. Rounds are made, search is ordered, and soon, Levi finds himself sitting by Erwin’s side. Though no soldiers were dead and no bodies had to be carried yet, one had gone missing, and they quickly declared him dead. Erwin didn’t seem bothered by the news, and Levi, though impassible, wondered of the devil himself needed comfort.

 

“Your plan works for now,” it’s in those moments that he really sees his lack of conversation. He internally cringes, but awaits for Erwin’s response. When none comes, he continues. “What’s that shitty face of yours? You should be happy. It’s just one life among hundreds, you told me so before.” He throws some dry branches in the campfire, the flames rise up. Ashes dance around.

 

“Levi,” the commander’s voice is deeper, and the frown on his face speaks volume now that it’s correctly lighten up by the strong fire in front of him. “We miscalculated the amount of water needed for the expedition. We’re almost out, and soldiers begin to complain,” it doesn’t seem bad for now, no threats, no titans, no death, so Levi keeps on listening, waiting for the real dreadful announcement that’s coming his way. “The well that was marked in this small village is completely dry, we didn’t take the recent weather into account either.” His voice becomes even lower, and the severity in his eyes tell the incoming problems. “Levi,” he says, now with an uncertainty almost out of character for the devil himself, “I want you and your escort to go fetch us water in a nearby village. We don’t know where one is exactly, but we know there is one, at least.”

 

          It takes some time for Levi to fully take in the request made by his friend. He throws another branch in the fire and a deviant flame comes waltzing around his arm. It doesn’t burn but it’s warm enough to make him recoil.

 

“No,” he firmly states.

 

“Do I have to make it an order, then? I trust you, and only you, Levi. I believe in your skills and your escort.”

 

“You know damn well why I chose to take Mikasa in, we talked about it. You even agreed. And now you want to throw her in arm’s way just to get some fucking water? They can drink their piss, for all I care, I’m sure someone already survived thanks to that.”

 

“It’s your duty as a soldier to put your personal feelings aside, Levi. You signed up for this-”

 

“Do I have to remind you you brought me into this life? I never asked for shit.”

 

          A small silence follows, the crackling of the wood being burnt covering the silence of the night. A soldier passes by, oblivious to the current issue. He nods, Erwin nods back. Levi stays unmoving, eyes drawn to the orange and red dance in front of his very eyes. Erwin sits back, straight composure given up for a more tired one, one that he never shows in the castle. He sighs then, and reluctance shows in his traits.

 

“Fine. I make it an order, then,” he pronounces every syllable clearly, emphasizing the words ‘order’, as if mocking. But the reluctance in his words shows, and it seems stronger in his voice than in his eyes. “You and your escort will leave this place as soon as you’re ready, it is to say now. You will leave by horse, as quietly as you can as to not alert the soldiers sleeping and those guarding the place. You will search for a village, then for water. You will come back safely here before morning,” the longer he speaks, the more his reluctance is lessen and his confidence is shown. Erwin is sure of his orders, he’s never doubted his words, and the trust he puts in Levi is almost surprising. He looks at the smaller man, and the severity yet trust in his eyes make Levi reconsider his words. “Now go wake your escort, take your horses, and go. Once again,” he sits straighter, as if to render his next words more official than they really are. He looks him straight in the eyes, and the burning light coming from the campfire makes them burn with an intensity Levi’s almost never seen in a man. “That is an order, and I believe you will execute it well.”

 

          Levi sighs but doesn’t make a movement. For a moment, he just sits there, looking back into the eyes of the man he’s come to trust. A moment passes where nothing happens but then, the fall of a branch wakes him up and he stands, salutes bitterly, then leave the man and the warmness of the fire behind. He walks slowly towards the house his escort sleeps in. It’s an all barrack, the roof barely covers their heads and the windows have all been shattered, but it still stands straight at the edge of the village, just at the beginning of the woods. He opens the door quietly, searching for some light. It comes in the form of a small candle held by Mikasa. She sits there, eyes closed, but the way she firmly holds the candle stick, ignoring the burning wax that’s sliding down her fingers, shows that she’s entirely awake. Levi walks up to her and nudges her shoulder. She opens an eye but doesn’t acknowledge his presence.

 

“Wake the others and join me near the horses. Make sure everyone’s ready. I won’t wait,” his words want to be discreet, but his deliberately loud voice makes the other sleeping forms around them stir. “And put the candle down, you’ll burn your skin.” He walks out, not waiting for an answer. She wouldn’t have given him one anyway, she knew better than to answer when curious ears were surrounding them.

 

          They don’t take time. They all follow pretty quickly, intrigued by their situation. Awoken so quickly when they had arrived not an hour ago, their chance of resting a bit thrown away. When they arrive, Levi is already sitting high on his horse, the other horses ready, waiting at the edge of the forest. They all straddle the tired horses. Levi turns then.

 

“Direct order from the commander, we’ll have to search around for a village and take as much water as we can. The rations are too low for tomorrow. I already gave you the equipment needed for the mission. I don’t want to hear any complain, you’ll sleep when we come back,” he spits quickly in an irritated yet hushed voice. His horse starts to trot away, the others following suit. “Be as discreet as possible. Of titans approach, be ready.” And that’s all he says as they gallop away, warmness of a campfire and peaceful sleep left behind.

 

          They gallop for what seems like hours, but the moon is still low, full but small, illuminating their paths enough. The risk of titans moving at night is lower, but as they’ve learned before, titans moving under a full moon can be a risk they shouldn’t forget about. So they gallop in a close and tight group, looking around for the sight of a village or the sound of a river, watching carefully the horizon for any gigantic form they should avoid.

         Levi turns around once, throwing a quick look at Mikasa. She seems tired but awake enough to stand her grounds and assure the safety of the mission. Her eyes are drown to the left horizon, watching carefully, large pupils scanning for any movement. The lightness of her skin should be a source of worry, but he’s learned pretty quickly that the paleness she has is just a sign of natural beauty. She looks at him then, and in the short second they look into each other’s eyes, they mutter words of comfort and trust. He turns around then, and keeps on searching.

          Soon, on of the soldiers in the escort, a young woman with no hair and visible freckles, confident enough to speak high but smart enough to stay discreet, announces the sights of a small village not far. They gallop quickly. Levi can spot a well and a river, and it’s with a satisfied sigh that he advances quicker. Just as he nears the edge of the village, a tremble is heard, and a hand shots out of nowhere, grabbing with strong and deformed fingers one of the soldiers by their sides. The young man, fear yelling in his eyes, shouts as his ribs are crushed from the pressure. Blood drips from in between his lips and, just like that, chaos ensues.

          A titan, a ten meter one, bites down where the group is. Teeth sink in horses’ flesh and humans’ limbs, scream resonate deep into the night. Levi shouts orders but none is heard. The world trembles, the houses fall, and a foot bigger than the roof they were under not an hour ago stomp the well they were reaching for. He looks up in rage, and as his eyes land on the monster towering well above them all, his heart skips a beat.

          The eyes of the creature seem wide with hunger. Its teeth dig in one of the soldiers’ head -the bald one with vivid freckles, who doesn’t scream anymore as her head is completely crushed, brain gushing out, eyes falling from their socket. But it doesn’t eat her, just let her lifeless and bloodied body fall from its mouth. The head of the young soldier stays stuck on its canine, and as it grins down, Levi sees the viciousness of a deviant. He curses and jumps from his horse just as it gets kicked with the force of a thousand horses. The animal flies away, it’s hen no longer loud and alive. Levi runs but no trees is visible, and the soldiers around him fight as much as they can. He doesn’t have time to search for Mikasa, and though he worries, he trusts her abilities more than anything.

          The titans grab and shriek, stomp and bite, the blood they mindlessly splatter around starts to cover the field and the houses. The rumbles roll around, the church that used to stand tall is destroyed by the falling corpse of a giant, and the loudness it creates as it falls breaks the night into chaos. Levi hears prayers being shouted, yells being muffled, the swift sound of blades and the despair that soon covers the group. The moon is high now, and the chances of survival are low when the moonlight is so bright. He curses again as he cuts the neck of a roaming titan. He blindly fights, lets his mind scream while his actions are silent, and the blades speak for him. Risking the lives of his escort for water isn’t something he ever wanted, and his rage at the idea of loosing more lives under his care, though used to the feeling, is even louder than the titans’ constant shrieking. He fights death yet again as he violently curses Erwin and his orders.

          Soon, bloody smoke rises from the field, no horse is left, no soldier left standing, and Levi doesn’t take the time to rest as he searches for survivors. The corpses of titans slowly fade and melt, yet the bodies of his soldiers stay the same, bloodied, butchered down t the bones, skin bleached and eyes wide open in the last horror they saw. He limp away, searches for her, forgets about discretion when he yells her name again and again. He searches and searches, exhaustion screaming at him to stop, but the fear of loosing her is louder. He walks, but trips. His head hits the ground, and that’s when he sees it.

          The church was simple. Gray, with polished stone and tinted windows. It was simple, a modest church, really. And right where it used to stand, only rumbles and ruins remained, marked by the outline of a titan’s corpse that melted away long ago during the battle. Only large bones, bloodied and battled, remained, stuck to the foundation. And right under the stones and the heavy wood and the putrid bones, her body was laid out, her legs and lower torso stuck, crushed without a doubt. She’s unmoving, and Levi stands up and runs. His voice is gone, his breath is ragged. The ground is rough under his twisted feet, it seems tangible, but he runs nonetheless.

When he finally reaches her, he falls at her side, his hands hovering over her pale face. This time, the paleness that paints her visage is one of cold death. The blue vein that slashes her cheek seems emptied of fluid, and Levi despairs at the sight. He lets his fingers trace the outline of her jaw. It’s loose, her mouth is open. Her breath, though frail, comes out quickly. She breathes.

 

“Mikasa?” He asks loudly, eyes wide. He waits for a response, at least a movement. He gets his answer minutes after, when she softly blinks. She struggles to even lift her eyelids and her eyes are unfocused, but at least, she lives. “Mikasa-”

 

“It hurts...” she breathes out. Her voice is hoarse, dust deep in her throat, and she struggles with every breath she has to take. She doesn’t make any movement, stuck under tons of rock and tired from the pain and the battle she failed. Levi despairs at the sight even more; she lacks the life she had and the determination in her eyes is no more. She’s pale as a ghost and the sweat on her forehead doesn’t stop falling. “It hurts so much...”

 

“I’ll get you out,” he swears, but his voice, though strong, isn’t accompanied by his action.

 

“I can’t move, Levi...” She struggles a little less, she took back her breath, and it leaves Levi a little hopeful, more than he should have the right to be. He strokes her hair away from her forehead, taking along the dust, dirt and grass that had settled against her sweaty skin.

 

“I’ll get you out, I said,” he applies more pressure on her hair, trying to get the dirt and leaves out of it. She stirs a little, her face forming a grimace at the pain his gesture producers, but she doesn’t complain.

 

“I can’t- I can’t feel anything,” she lets her eyes close and Levi can only listen to her breathing. Though it jolts by times, it stays fairly regular and he’s thankful of the silence surrounding them. His eyes stay glued on her form. She opens her eyes again, having found the answer she was searching for. She sighs silently, and when her ribs retract, small rocks above her roll down the ruins. “I can’t feel anything anymore. Not my legs, not my back. Not even-” she takes her breathing back, careful of the rocks falling around her. Levi shields her face with his arms. “Not even my arms or my neck or...”

 

“I’ll get us both back to safety,” he swears. He curses, then, when she coughs blood. The striking red liquid cascade down her left cheek, forming puddles under her head, coloring the nape of her hair. He sees, then, that the scarf is torn that he could do nothing to sew it back. He curses.

 

          For a long moment, longer than he should have, he stays by her side, calmly following her breathing. When she coughs, he cleans her cheek. When she needs water, he goes to the river, takes some gulps and goes back to her, giving her in a kiss the water she desperately needs. When she needs food, he goes and finds old plants and crushed fruits. He chews it and gives it to her, all that so she can stay alive a little longer. When she hurts, he kisses her forehead or strokes her neck. She can’t feel the light touch but just seeing him move his hand down her face reassures her a little more. And when she needs to listen to something, anything, truly, he talks, more than he’s ever talked before. About his old squad, about his days in the underground, about his collection of tea or the places he didn’t have time to clean. The tea shop he dreams of having, the family he dreams of building, the military he now dreams of leaving. When she can’t listen anymore, when the final fever has hit her too harshly for her to understand anything, he still talks about things she already knows, about stories he’s already told her, hidden in the comfort of their bed. But he talks with the voice of a prisoner, one that hasn’t seen the sun in years, one that has forgotten about freedom. It’s tangled deep in his throat. He coughs.

         She looks up then. Her eyes are clearly unfocused, lost in his, somewhere, he’s sure. She’s sweating so much, she’s soaking wet, yet she seems to shiver lightly. Goosebumps form at the base of her neck. Her lips are pale and cracked, blood stuck between the dried skin. The bags under her eyes are prominent and the veins on her eyelids are easier to see, almost draw her around her eyes like ink on paper would. She Tries to speak but her tongue is dry. He goes for water again. When he comes back, she has her eyes half closed, and he’s never seen her so frail. He kisses her the water, she doesn’t swallow. It wets her tongue but it slides down her mouth. She slowly ends.

 

“The garden...” She so softly whispers that he almost misses it. “The garden… I would have planted nameless flowers,” she breathes, “everywhere. We wouldn’t have been able to walk without crushing them.” She breathes, and breathes again. It’s slow, it takes time, but he listens. “But it’s okay, they would have grown back by- by the next spring.” A time. She breathes. “There would have been a tree, a beautiful one,” she’s delirious now, he sees, because her eyes dart everywhere, seeing things that are not there, painting the picture she’s describing, without a doubt with a beauty he couldn’t even imagine. “I would have hung myself from this very tree then, you would have buried me right under it,” he doesn’t flinch at her words.

 

“Why are you telling me all this?” He despairs again, he knows. His mind goes the wrong way, he clenches his hands. His moves them to her cheeks then, he feeds her more fruits. It falls again. He cleans her up.

 

“Would we have had children?” She doesn’t answer him, he doesn’t even know if she forgot his presence. She seems delirious, completely gone. “I wouldn’t have wanted one. I don’t even know if I can anymore,” she finally closes her eyes then, and tears he didn’t see form in her eyes roll down. Even those seem dry, and they don’t roll down far, they hit Levi’s thumbs and disappear under his skin. He doesn’t feel them.

 

“You should keep your breath,” he desperately tries, but she doesn’t listen. She wastes it more and more as time goes.

 

“At least,” she breathes, “you know, now,” she breathes again, “you’ll live for me. Let me be selfish,” she coughs, “just this once. Have a garden, but don’t bury me in it. Don’t take my body back,” she coughs again, and this time, more tears fall. They wet his skin like rain in a cold April morning, and he hisses at her pathetic figure. The strong Mikasa he’s known for so long is no more, and seeing her go so slowly burns his heart like never before. “It’s okay,” she whispers, and her voice sounds like blood hitting the surface of a lake. It sounds wet, it’s weak.

 

          He stays by her side. The sun slowly wakes up. The light hits him directly in the face, and that’s when he knows he’s doomed, too, they must have already left by now. He shudders, the light burns, but his body trembles. He bends down, softly puts his forehead against hers.

 

“Titans will awaken soon.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You should run,” she waits again, takes her breathing back. When she doesn’t succeed, she fights through the lack of oxygen to talk. “Where is your horse?”

 

“It died,” he weakly answers.

 

“It’s okay,” she suffocates now. As the sun wakes, she slowly ends. “You’ll run.”

 

“I will. There’s a forest, a village, everything to hide me,” she should know that it’s a lie, nothing is around but the small pathetic village they are stuck in, but she’s too far gone to see through his lies. “I’ll run for you.”

 

“Perfect.”

 

          He sees, now, that the ruins around them are no more than mere building that have collapsed under the weight of fallen giant corpses. The stones are old, the roofs are rotten, wood eaten by insects, humidity and age. There is nothing but chaos and vastness, and no tree, no forest. The gargantuan bones have all evaporated. It’s a grave of nothingness, where they’ll both end, never to be seen again.

          He looks down at her again when he sees her struggling too much to breathe. The crimson on her blouse has taken over the white color. She closes her eyes, they don’t open again.

 

“End me and run,” she breathes lastly. He takes his hands away from her face. She smiles, so weakly he doesn’t see. “I love you.”

 

He doesn’t stab through her heart, it stops in its own. Titans roar and she keeps silent. The sun wakes, burns the place. Levi stands. He stabs something else instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand here we are, that's the end of the first part of the collection. It wasn't that long, I know, and I'm sorry for that, writing long stories isn't my forte. And fighting scenes aren't either, I think you saw that too, ah ah.  
> Anyway, thank you for following this short story, thank you for your kind words and kudos! It alays means so much to me!
> 
> Thank you again, and I'll see you in the next work of the collection.  
> Sur-ce, buh-bye!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello people!
> 
> I hope this first chapter was good enough for you. I like angst, I like tragedies, and I love Rivamika, so here it goes! I hope it wasn't too bad. The second chapter is gonna longer and the third one is gonna be even longer too.  
> I'm sorry if I made any mistakes or if my vocabulary is just plain bad. I try my best!
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it.  
> Sur ce, buh-bye!


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